First Times

"First Times" by Hestia

[Source: Kizuna, Vol. 2, pages 1-79 by Kazuma Kodaka. The plot and dialogue are all Kodaka's--I've just added Ran's point of view and internal dialogue.]


First Times

The first thing he ever said to me was, “Huy? Are you a guy?” Of course I had to punch him. We ended up being late to class on the first day of our freshman year in high school. Before I went to bed that night, I knew Kei Enjyoji was gay—and interested in me. In gym class that day, we had a Kendo match. He’d never done any Kendo before, but in our short match I was afraid he could beat me and hit him with all of my strength. It wasn’t fair to a rookie, but Kei got under my skin from the start.

Not only had Kei thought I was a woman, but he had the nerve to tell me I was pretty. I hated being mistake for a girl or called feminine, and to have someone who was so clearly male spouting crap about my eyelashes made me want to scream. Then at lunch, he kept trying to give me a nickname even though I made it clear I want to be called Ranmaru. I could have dismissed him as just a jerk, but once everyone in gym class knew of my talent at Kendo, they were all too scared to challenge me. He was the only one with the balls to take me on. It was infuriating to find that he had such raw talent that he could hold his own against me, the one called the prodigy of the country. I couldn’t lose to him—he already had me feeling strange and vulnerable and to then be challenged at Kendo, the one thing that I had always felt invulnerable at—well, in short, I panicked and hit him as hard as I could even though the gym teacher had asked me not to.

When we were in the locker room after that gym class, he put his hand on my back, tracing one of my scars and babbling something about the softness of my skin. I almost hit him again, but it occurred to me maybe he was suffering from my blow to his head. So, I let it go and just asked about his head. He grabbed my shoulders and made some weird comment about how if I’d given him brain damage, I should make him my wife. At the time I thought it was a way of teasing me—after all, he was in no danger of being anyone’s wife. He was manly even as a teen and had an aggressive personality, courage, and a powerful body—he’d just proven that in the gym in front of the whole class. He’d never be anyone’s wife. On the other hand, if I didn’t have my kendo, it was clear that I might end up someone’s bitch. In fact earlier that day some assholes in the judo club had wanted to dress me up like a cheerleader. After some words, I dodged a punch with one of my Kendo moves, and the big lug landed on the floor. I tapped him on the head with a ruler as if it was my Kendo sword, and he and the other dicks with him backed off—once more I was saved by my skill at Kendo.

But anyway, to get back to Kei’s comment—I didn’t see that comment about being my wife as a sign he was already imagining being married to me, I just saw it as teasing. But honestly, I had been wanting someone to spar with who was good enough to challenge me and wasn’t afraid of me, and he was the first to meet those qualifications. And even better, he clearly liked me. He seemed to be offering his friendship, and I was lonely. So, I invited him back to my house.

That was when I found out not only that Kei was pretty interested in me, but that I was not as resistant to him as I wanted to be. Even though I had been feeling bad about his head, I almost hit him again when he took my invitation to come over to my house as an offer to come back to my house for sex. But somehow he ended up making me feel he was doing me a favor by coming—he leaned in so close to me, his face and mouth so near me that I turned my head away. And his voice—he coaxed me to allow him to call me by some special nickname, promising to come over if I’d just tell him what I wanted him to call me—something short, something other than my full name. When Kei talks in that husky tone of voice—oh god, every time, from that first time he spoke to me like that, to this day, my body just responds. I blushed and stuttered, trying to insist on “Ranmaru,” but mortifyingly I couldn’t even say my own name clearly. When he teased me, I yelled my name at him like some madman and then started to walk away in a huff. He grabbed me from behind, putting his arms around my shoulders and just insisted on calling me Ran.

Even though I acted indifferent to him, I liked it—here was someone that was so interested in me that my harsh blow with the Kendo sword and my angry yelling, even my rudeness in just walking away, wasn’t enough to drive him out of my life. At that time in my life, no one else had shown such persistence in wanting to know me. This persistence combined with his courage and skill whispered to me that here was a worthy rival. Before I even left the locker room, I was looking forward to fighting him in Kendo again and again.

Kei had such an impact on me that when he didn’t show up for the Kendo club’s first meeting and practice, I was furious. Already in my white Kendo clothes, I left the meeting and went looking for him. I was shocked when a classmate told me he was joining the tea ceremony club! I was so disappointed, I barged into the tea club’s meeting room and interrupted it. I don’t usually act so rude—I picked a fight in front of the other members of his club and ran off after yelling “Screw you!” at him. In just a few hours, I’d already started to dream of him being my best friend, my sparring partner, and the thought of once more having no one to spar with that I wasn’t completely confident I could beat felt horrible. I felt like a child who had been shown the best toy that I’d ever seen and then had it snatched away. I remember that I didn’t go right back to practice—I went and hid outside on the school grounds between a tree and a fence by the back door to the gym. I sat on the ground with my head on my arms, fighting back a few tears—not very manly or mature.

But when I finally was heading home back in my academy uniform—there he was waiting for me. It hadn’t occurred to me he would still want to come to my house. On the way there, he called me his friend in passing. I was so happy that I let him treat me like a girl, holding my hand and complimenting me. I complained about it—but I didn’t try to hit him over it. When I introduced him to my mother, she was surprised—I’ve never been someone to invite people to my house, especially strangers. But Kei—Kei was different. And even though he kept reminding me of how feminine my body was, something that I usually hated, I liked him. And when we had our second Kendo match in the dojo, there was nothing feminine about either of us. We sparred until we were exhausted. Kei lay on the floor with his arms spread wide and feet apart, completely spent, and I curled up on my side a few feet away, resting. We made plans to spar again, and things were going great. Then when we were both relaxed and laughing, collapsed on the floor, he brought up kissing.

I sat up, blushing and embarrassed because I’d never kissed anyone before. He sat up too, close to me and leaned his face in close to mine. My heart started pounding like crazy. That voice of his, that sexy, low voice, just said, “Let’s kiss.” That voice seemed to just promise something good. I protested, and he just said, “Shhh, shut your eyes”—and I did. I let him kiss me. It was a soft, gentle kiss, but it shook me and made my head spin. It was my first kiss, and it made me want more—but, I wouldn’t let myself admit that. I couldn’t understand how I could feel so excited from a kiss from a guy. He tried to make me tell him how I felt, so I had to hit him again. I’m not normally that violent, but Kei, from that very first day, just made all my emotions more intense.

That kiss scared me a little and made me more cautious around Kei—I made sure we were just friends that year. During the last three years of high school, I didn’t see him that much during the school year. He was working hard to help out his single mom, and we had no classes together. The only club he was involved in was the damn Tea Ceremony club, which was run by a bunch of giggling girls who didn’t care if he had to miss club activities frequently. The girls in the club loved him and kept trying to fix him up with other girls all the time. In the summer we saw each other more at the dojo at my house. We would spar regularly. He had gotten so good in those four years even though he practiced only with me that he was even able to beat me the summer before our freshman year at college. It stunned me—I was nationally known, I’d been trained since I could walk, and yet he had beaten me. It was my first loss at kendo.

Kei—god, he was so talented! It was a crime that he had to work and couldn’t focus on Kendo—and even more of a crime that he didn’t seem to care. During our freshman year in college, we once again had a number of classes together. Seeing him so much, I wanted a rematch. I was hungry to fight him again and again—it thrilled me to think here was a real challenge. But he had stopped coming over to see me. It seemed like now that we saw each other in school, he didn’t want to spend time alone with me. I wouldn’t have minded if he just didn’t want to fight, but he seemed to want to avoid me altogether—to end our friendship.

After a few weeks of this, I asked him to come over to my house to talk about something important—a request he couldn’t just blow off. He finally showed up close to evening at the dojo. He of course embarrassed me in front of the guys I had just defeated by calling me the “hottest Kendo fighter of them all.” I just had to hope they assumed he meant I was a popular fighter, not the one he saw as the sexiest.

When we were alone, I tried to find out why he had broken his promise to come and spar with me at the dojo. He wouldn’t look me in the eye and started to give me some lame excuse. I just lost it. I was losing my best friend, and I couldn’t take it. I grabbed his uniform coat and slammed him against the wall of the dojo. I even hit him on the chest with my fists like a child having a tantrum. I’m not good at relationships—I don’t like to talk about feelings, but I just couldn’t let him go without him telling me why he was acting so differently. I was worried he hated me—had he just been fighting me to see if he could beat me at Kendo? Now that he had done that, was that it? Had all our friendship and all that stuff he always said to me just been a lie, a game to him? But even when I practically begged him to tell me he didn’t hate me, he just put me off, trying to tell me we could talk tomorrow.

The pain was devastating. I just turned away and mumbled something, trying to sound cool and indifferent, but I was in pain. It was then that my life changed—Kei said my name like I was the world to him, pulled me back against his body, and kissed me. This wasn’t like our first kiss. His tongue pushed into me. His hands circled my wrists, and now it was my turn to have my back slammed into the wall of the dojo. But this was Kei, this was my friend, the only friend I really cared about—and he was kissing me like a lover. And I did nothing to fight him. It was the best kiss I’d ever had—all I could focus on was his tongue and the feelings that flooded me. Then he pulled his head away and told me why he was avoiding me.

In that husky, low voice that always gives me shivers, he said that just touching me was driving him mad with lust. His hands were still on my wrists, and the look of passion and desire on his face made it clear he wasn’t joking—I was stunned. I had known he’d liked my looks and liked men, but this, this was beyond like. But that kiss of his was so good—I was shaken—maybe I was gay too. I don’t really remember if I said anything at all—I was just trying to readjust my worldview. But my lack of fighting or shouting—my usual response to any sexual advance on his part—seemed to inflame him. He turned me around and pressed me to the wall with his body. I could feel his hard cock against my ass. After a bit he stepped back, his hands pulling apart the sides of my white Kendo uniform, pulling the white fabric down to expose my chest, my shoulders, my neck.

His mouth was on the back of my neck, kissing, biting, claiming me as his. His hands went to the tie at my waist still loosely holding up my jacket and undid it. He lifted his head, and his words made me realize we could never go back to the kind of friendship we’d had. “We’re not the same as before. You and I are men now,” he said as his hand found my cock beneath my thin white pants, shamefully hard like his.

“No, Kei—“ I said, but then as his hand slid up my arousal for the first time, I threw my head back and shut my eyes and moaned at how good it felt. I panted out, “No,” but it was clearly a weak, pathetic protest. He’d just seen me take down two powerful opponents in Kendo, and now I couldn’t make myself move, fight, or scream. His voice was so sexy, and when he undid my pants and they fell to the floor, I collapsed back against him unable to stand.

“Ranmaru, Ranmaru—“ he said in a voice I had never heard before, a voice that told me if I had been suffering at our separation, he had been too—torn between wanting to be near me as a friend, wanting me as a lover, and wanting to spare me unwanted sexual advances. As I sat on his fully clothed lap, feeling his erection trapped beneath me, letting him stroke my cock, he cried out—“Ranmaru, I’m at my limit. I’ll destroy everything you see, everything you touch! I’ll destroy everything that interests you! Even Kendo!” He slid me off his lap, his mouth at my ear, my neck. Somehow, I was sitting with my ass on the floor, knees up close to my chest, and my back against the wall. He pushed apart my legs, and his middle finger thrust into my anus. I began to cry and shove at him.

But then he pulled his hand out and put it on the wall behind me, his face close to mine, his voice desperate to apologize, to explain, “Ranmaru, I love you, I love you—I’ve loved you ever since I laid eyes on you.” He began to cry himself, pushing his body against me, his voice at my ear, telling me, “I love you—I didn’t meant to do something so terrible like this—I’m sorry.”

I pulled his head away from my ear and slapped him, in control again. At the look on his face when my hand hit his cheek, I melted. “How unfortunate,” I said, “before those words, I was planning to punch you and break both your arms.” I could see the hope starting to dawn in his face as I added, “There is an order to how you woo someone, you idiot!”

Once more he apologized, but I put my arms around his neck and offered my lips to him. I loved him as a friend and maybe, maybe as something more—suddenly it didn’t matter what sex he was—I wanted him, and I knew I was falling in love with him. He kissed me again, and this time I didn’t say no or try to stop him. I pulled off his glasses, wanting my face closer to his, wanting to feel his head closer to mine as his tongue tangled with mine. I let him pull off the rest of my clothes and put them on the floor and lay me back on them. His clothes soon fell away as well. I lay there moaning beneath him with one hand on the back of his head, holding him to me as he sucked on my neck, my other hand scratching and clawing at his back, wanting him to make love to me.

We rubbed against each other, sliding our cocks together as we kissed. I moaned, my eyes shut, lost in my first experience of physical love. He hands found my nipples and began to tease them. I cried out in surprise, and my body shivered in pleasure. I had never touched my nipples, nor had anyone else. But now—now, I would never look at that part of my body the same way again. Then Kei lowered his mouth and sucked hard on one nipple—and the sensation doubled. I cried out his name, arching up to his lips, pushing my needy cock against his chest. He shifted his mouth to my other nipple and his hand came up to my mouth. He pushed two fingers into my mouth. I instinctively began to suck on them—innocent as I was, I didn’t at first realize what he was doing. But my mouth missed his tongue, and I was shaking with want. To take those fingers into my mouth and suck on them filled my empty, hungry mouth. Yet soon he pulled those fingers away to find that puckered hole he’d so cruelly thrust into before.

This time with my salvia on his fingers and his lips and tongue distracting me with a passionate kiss, I welcomed his fingers into me. The feeling of being penetrated by Kei above and below, in mouth and ass, as our cocks rubbed together, was overwhelming. I was already close to cumming when he suddenly his fingers hit what I now know is my prostrate—and then I just shook and moaned, quivering, crying out his name as my sperm spewed out between us. Kei drove his fingers into me, hitting that spot again and again as my body shuddered in the most intense orgasm I’d ever had.

When I’d stopped cumming, I could feel myself starting to blush, but Kei was telling me how he loved me, how beautiful I was, how nothing he ever seen was sexier and more beautiful than how I looked as I spilled out my seed. Those fingers withdrew from my ass, but he bent his head to lick some cum from my chest. His hand found each spash of cum, smearing it on my skin, but also on his hand and then his cock—he used my own sperm to lubricate his arousal. He entered me gently, slowly, and I opened my eyes to watch his face as he made love to me for the first time. His look was reverent, and when he had entered me fully, he moaned out my name and his love.

Once he began to move, it took only a few minutes before he came, collapsing on me, letting me feel for the first time how it felt to be filled, to feel him empty himself into me, spasming with the pleasure of his release. He pulled out of me, and we lay on the floor of the dojo facing each other, foreheads resting on each other, hands clasped tight between our chests, eyes shut. Feeling his head against mine, clenching his hand against my heart, I just lay there at peace, sliding towards sleep—my friend, my Kei, loved me—I hadn’t lost him.